


earthquakes, heartaches

by thunderstorms (fictionalparadises)



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Dancing, Dream Smp, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Kissing, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Romance, The Masquerade, Time Travelling Karl Jacobs, Web Series: Tales from the SMP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-19 01:27:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29618484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionalparadises/pseuds/thunderstorms
Summary: “Are you sure we haven’t met before?” James asks contemplatively, the hint of a frown on his face.“I think I would remember if I had,” Karl says, and hopes the slight waver in his voice isn’t audible. “We’re strangers, really.”James cocks his head. “You’re not a stranger if you’re constantly on my mind.”“You don’t even know me."“Give it some time,” James hums, eyes twinkling in the string lights overhead.Or; Karl finds Sapnap's reincarnations in every lifetime, in every universe, but he always ends back right where he belongs—home.
Relationships: Karl Jacobs & Sapnap, Karl Jacobs/Sapnap
Comments: 17
Kudos: 232
Collections: Fanfics I’d eat again at 3 am and already have





	earthquakes, heartaches

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to ren for giving me the idea for this fic & the honors of writing it :)
> 
> tw : if you watched the masquerade ep of tales, you know how things end with james & i do go into detail abt that so if you're uncomfortable with reading abt death / someone dying, please don't read this !!! stay safe my loves <3
> 
> and to everyone else !!!! i hope you enjoy :)

The sun is blinding from where Karl Jacobs sits on the dirt.

He lifts a hand to shield his eyes from the light, placing the other behind him and leaning back. It’s warm today, a mellow temperature that promises a gentle spring and a warmer summer, and the sky is a vast sea of blue, the periwinkle stretching on endlessly. The sun has already started its descent towards the horizon, and it will be dark within two hours, probably.

Karl watches his friends from a few feet away. George’s squeak rings through the air as Sapnap chases him, and Foolish rummages through the chests, pulling out stacks of spruce wood and red mushroom blocks.

Another laugh rings through the air, and it’s the only one that manages to make Karl’s heart skip a beat. His eyes glide back to Sapnap, who’s trying to find a way to get to George, safely towered up a few blocks. “Come on, George, don’t be a buzzkill, just come down,” he calls, folding his arms over his chest and grinning slightly. 

“Promise you won’t kill me,” George counters, raising his brows as he peeks over the edge.

Sapnap’s grin widens. “Hm. Unfortunately, I can’t do that.”

“Bad! Help me!” George cries out. Sapnap glances over his shoulder to Bad, who watches everything go down with a mildly amused expression on his face, and George takes the moment of distraction to leap from his dirt tower.

Sapnap immediately gives in to the chase. Karl’s gaze trails them as they rush through the tall grass, running in circles to try and escape.

He blows out a long breath, closing his eyes and tilting his face toward the sun. He can hear Bad and Foolish bickering over the measurements of the house and in the distance, cries and laughter echo through the air.

A faint pressure starts in the back of his mind. It is accompanied with a dull sense of disappointment.

Karl feels more at ease than he has in days—starting a new kingdom with Sapnap and George made him nervous, but he’s glad that he did. He knows that he had no choice but to do this, but it’s going well so far, and it’s coming along pretty nicely. The house is almost done—he’s a little sad at the realization that he won’t be there to finish it.

The headache grows steadier. _I know,_ Karl wants to say to whoever’s listening. _I know, and I’m leaving tonight._ The new missions keep coming, and since his first time visiting the Inbetween, they’ve been following each other up at a faster pace, sometimes barely giving him a day’s rest before that pressure returns, urging him to _go,_ _go, hurry, change the timeline before the timeline changes you._

He has no choice but to listen.

Someone blocks his sunlight and cloaks him in shade. He opens his eyes, mouth opening to complain, but he looks right into Sapnap’s face and all that comes out is a half-hearted, croaked, “You’re blocking my sunlight.”

“Grumpy, grumpy,” Sapnap chides, but he’s grinning as he flops down on the grass next to Karl. Their thighs brush together, just barely, but it makes goosebumps rise on his skin. Sapnap takes off his helmet and clunks it next to him on the ground.

Karl side-eyes him, squinting one eye against the sun, and finds it hard to breathe. Sapnap looks breathtaking like this—grin splitting his face, hair tousled from ruffling his hand through it, a few stray strands hanging over his eyes. His netherite armor gleams in the sunlight.

“You enjoying yourself?” Sapnap asks, glancing at the mushroom house in front of them. The brown of his eyes seems liquid in this light.

“Yeah,” Karl says softly. Sapnap’s hand brushes past his as he shifts, planting his feet on the ground and resting his arms over his knees. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

Sapnap half-turns to throw him a lopsided smile. “I’m glad, too, Karl.”

“I’ve gotta go in a minute,” Karl says, despite how bad he wants to stay.

“Go where?” Sapnap frowns slightly. “You’re not staying?”

Karl wants to smooth the crease with his thumb and bites on the inside of his cheek. “Uh—my library. I still have some stuff to pack, so…”

“Alright,” Sapnap says, shrugging. “You’ll be there tomorrow though, right?”

“Of course,” Karl lies through his teeth. In reality, he doesn’t know how long he’ll be gone for—he never does, it’s always unpredictable with his journeys. Sometimes he’ll be gone for less than a day, other times it takes him nearly two weeks to return.

“Perfect.” Sapnap smiles, and it’s a smile that always manages to make Karl’s heart stumble over a beat inside his chest without fail, a smile that feels like it’s for him and him only, even if he knows that Sapnap never intends it the way Karl wants him to.

They return to their comfortable silence, watching their friends from afar.

“Hey! Is that my sword, you prick?” Sapnap suddenly calls out, jumping to his feet and barely giving George a second before he’s storming towards him.

Karl watches him leave. Longing nestles in the crevice in his chest, painful, biting. It would hurt if he weren’t so used to the feeling.

He lets himself stare at them for a moment longer—his friends, his family. The only people he has left.

Then he stands up, dusts off his pants, and turns on his heel without saying goodbye.

⁂

Karl wakes from his travel-state and finds himself under the canopy of a spruce forest. He shakes the fuzzy feeling from his head and waits for the haze to fade—it’s a state he always wakes in when he steps through the portal, a combination of weariness and disorientation, and he’s experienced it so often that he feels like he should be used to it by now.

He lifts his hand to his face. There’s a mask over his eyes, the fabric a little scratchy, bound together behind his head with two silk ribbons. It’s purple, the same mauve color as his shoes, and matches his outfit strangely well. A mask—what on earth is he supposed to do with a mask?

Sometimes, he thinks to himself, it’d be kind of nice to have a manual on all of this. Or at least a small heads-up that he’s getting sent to the middle of a damn forest. He’s not even sure why he’s here, or what he’s supposed to do.

“Whatever,” he huffs out, even though he’s alone. He always figures it out eventually.

When Karl turns on his heel, he sees the faint structure of a building behind the line of trees. As he steps out of the forest, his lips part in surprise.

It’s a mansion, and the sheer size of it makes Karl feel like an ant about to be trampled by a massive foot. It looks cold and not very lived-in, cobwebs covering the exterior. Karl walks around the sputtering fountain and darts up the stairs, footsteps echoing in the eerie silence.

“Hello?” He asks, nearly being sent into a frenzy when he reaches the opened front door and a man in a suit walks into view.

“Uh, hello,” a distantly familiar voice greets him. “Who is this?”

“I, uh—I’m just in the area,” Karl blurts, covertly glancing around the foyer. Behind the mask is a face he doesn’t know, but something about the man in front of him sets off his nerves. “Why? Who are you?”

“I am Sir Billiam the Third, the owner of this mansion.” Sir Billiam gestures around him. “But I don’t appear to know who you are.” Before Karl can even open his mouth to say something, he goes on, “I don’t live in this mansion very often. Frankly, it’s one of the smaller mansions that I own, but I think the smallness of it gives it a nice, cozy feeling, you know?”

Karl suppresses a laugh and nods sagely. “Yeah, yeah, of course. Your name was Sir Billiam, you said?”

“Yes, Sir Billiam.”

“And why are you wearing that mask?”

Billiam adjusts one of the lapels of his jacket, a small smile appearing on his face. “Well, you see, I’m hosting a masquerade.”

“Ooh…” Karl drags out, squinting his eyes in thought. Then he quickly adds, “That’s why I’m here, also. Obviously.”

A masquerade. Okay—at least he knows what he’s working with, now. But he’s still not sure why he’s here, and what he’s going to have to do to alter the timeline.

He takes in every detail he can see as Sir Billiam leads him around the mansion, from the clock to the paintings to the red poppies—there’s so many of those that Karl loses count by the third room they enter.

By the time they’ve made it back to the foyer, the first guests have started trickling in and Karl takes a step back, letting Billiam resume his role as host. He watches from a distance, untouched wine glass in his hand, and he feels ridiculously out of place.

The feeling isn’t new to him—it happens every time he time travels, every time he’s dropped into a new setting and has to adjust faster than the speed of light.

He engages in a conversation with some people that introduce themselves to him and whose names he almost instantly forgets. Some of them feel oddly familiar, others are entirely new to him. He’s on edge, but he’s not sure why. He disposes his full wineglass on a wooden side table. 

The foyer is starting to get crowded now, and Karl rises on his toes to glance around for Billiam, maybe to suggest moving to the ballroom, when he sees him.

All his ancestors look like him. It’s almost taunting, in a way, that all Sapnap’s past lives have a stark resemblance to Sapnap himself.

Karl’s mouth goes dry as he watches him walk in, white fluttery shirt loosely tucked into his dark pants, the top buttons left open. He's wearing a silver mask that covers the right side of his face and his hair is a few shades lighter than his usual black strands.

In a moment of understanding, Karl realizes that he’d been waiting for him. For this timeline’s version of Sapnap. That’s why he was on edge.

Karl slowly drifts towards the entrance, towards him, and it’s a natural tendency.

“Ah, James!” Billiam’s voice rumbles through the air, and Karl’s lips part in a quiet intake of air— _James_. It’s fitting. “It’s good to see you again, my friend. How’s the business?” He vigorously shakes James’ hand. “How’s the wife?”

“Uh—” He drags out. “Divorced.”

Karl’s eyes widen. Billiam raises a shocked brow and takes an awkward beat before he asks, “How’s the family?”

“Gone.”

Karl slaps a hand over his mouth to stifle a very wrongly-timed and misplaced laugh. James turns at the sound and looks at Karl from where he’s standing a few feet away, something like amusement dancing in his eyes.

Billiam’s face has distorted in a wince. Then he calls out for the butler, who immediately appears with a tray of wine.

“I, uh—I like your… clearly built body,” Karl gets out awkwardly, and he wonders why on earth he just said that. “I know that we just now met, but—”

James’ eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Wait, wait—what? What’s your—what’s your name?”

“I’m Karl,” he says, heart skipping a beat when James takes a step closer. “And your name is James?”

“James, yeah.” He doesn’t look away from Karl’s face, even when he takes one of the wineglasses from the butler’s tray. Karl swallows hard. “Here, you want some?” James asks, not even waiting for an answer before he takes Karl’s hand and presses the glass into his palm.

“I already had wine—I think I’m good—” Karl protests, but James pushes their hands, still wrapped around the single glass, up towards Karl’s face.

“No, just take it.”

Karl, apparently, has a weak spot for Sapnap, no matter what timeline they’re in, and he’s always been bad at denying him anything, so he lifts the glass to his lips and takes a sip.

James’ eyes flick to the red stain on Karl’s bottom lip, just for a second, before he looks back at Karl’s gaze and smiles. He wishes, so desperately, that it wouldn’t make his knees go weak as much as it does.

“James, is that you?” A voice echoes through the air, and they both turn to the direction of the sound. A woman in a blue dress stands near the stairs, her hand resting on the rail, the visible parts of her face lit up with surprised delight.

“Please excuse me,” James says. His hand comes up to squeeze Karl’s hand once, softly. “I’ll see you around?”

His cheeks burn, and he nods. “Sure.”

James flashes him a dazzling smile before he turns on his heel and makes his way towards the stairs.

Karl knows without a single doubt that he’s _screwed_.

⁂

The ball is going swimmingly. Everything’s perfect—the food is good, the wine is amazing, there’s music and dancing and laughing. Yes, everything is perfect—except for one thing: Karl doesn’t know why he’s here.

He’s been going around, making small talk to the guests, trying to figure out his objective here. He’s been chatting to everyone around, even tried speaking to the butler (who, stubbornly, shook his head and kept his mouth shut, no matter what Karl said), but he’s none the wiser. He kept on locking gazes with James, who seemed to be following him with his eyes everywhere Karl went, and Karl cursed himself for breaking into a sweat every time it happened—at least he resisted the urge to walk over to him, despite how strong it was.

Now Karl is sitting at the bar, wondering what to do, his eyes glancing back and forth between the wine swirling in his cup and the people dancing on the ballroom floor.

“You know,” a voice says suddenly from beside him, making Karl jump slightly, “I get the vague feeling I’m supposed to know you.”

Karl laughs it off, cheeks heating. “Well, that’s… that’s weird. I’ve only just met you.”

James slides on the stool beside him, shirt fluttering open and giving him a glimpse of tanned skin. “I suppose you’re right.” He looks around the room before his eyes land on Karl again, and Karl feels like he’s wilting under his stare. “You enjoying yourself?”

“Sure am.”

“You don’t look like it,” James blatantly says. “You look like you’re about to start yelling at the next person that asks you what you do for a living.”

A soft giggle bubbles past Karl’s lips and he clamps his mouth shut, hoping that the dim light somewhat conceals the flush high on his cheekbones. “Well, I might be,” he says, raising a brow.

“Hm. Fair enough. The small talk does get a bit tiresome, doesn’t it?” James shakes his head, hair swaying with the movement. Karl’s fingers itch to brush it out of his eyes.

“It does,” he admits. “But it’s part of getting to know someone, right?”

James leans in a little closer, knees brushing together. “Then let’s talk.”

Karl giggles again. “About what, James? You don’t even know me.”

He stares at him, unblinkingly. “You.” Karl suddenly finds that his sweater was maybe not the right choice for tonight, with how hot he is underneath the fabric. James tilts his head. “ _James._ I like the way you say my name,” James says, a faint smile on his face, and something in his voice makes Karl’s face flush. “You’re right, I don’t know you. But I’d like to.”

It may be a stupid decision, but Karl is nothing if not a little self-indulgent—he sinks into the familiarity of Sapnap, even if it’s not Sapnap sitting in front of him. They talk about Karl, and they talk about James, and they talk about everything in between.

It hurts, almost. How similar they are. Karl sees Sapnap’s mannerisms in everything James does, in the way he talks and sits and carries himself, and it _hurts_. Especially when James brushes his fingers past Karl’s and smiles at him like he’s the only reason he ever would.

“Dance with me,” James interrupts his own story, holding out his hand for Karl.

“What?”

“Dance with me, c’mon,” James repeats.

Karl laughs awkwardly. “I… I don’t think we should.” He carefully glances over his shoulder to the dancefloor.

“What, you’re afraid you’ll step on my toes? They endured a lot, they can take some more, I don’t care—”

“No, I meant—” Karl bites on his tongue, grimacing as he looks at James. “Isn’t this unusual? Look at the—look at the pairings on the dance floor.”

James glances over Karl’s shoulder, a slight frown on his face as he looks at the dancing crowd. Then his face distorts in realization, and he scoffs. “You think I give two shits about that? No. C’mon, we’re dancing.”

This time, he leaves no room for objection as he grabs Karl’s hand and tugs him along. Karl, despite his nerves, despite the fact that he stumbles over his own feet in his hurry to follow and nearly eats dust, fails to suppress a smile. His heart beats weakly in his chest, aching in the most beautiful way possible.

He’s mainly just glad he half-remembers how to waltz—he silently shoots a thanks to Tubbo from when he forced them to take dance classes in preparation for the festival. It takes him a minute to get into it, but once he’s pretty certain he won’t demolish James’ toes, he forces himself to relax a little.

Only then does he become aware of how close James and him are—James has his arm wrapped around the small of Karl’s back, chests nearly pressed together from where James is pulling him closer than necessary, and Karl’s fingers are wrapped around James’ tightly.

James is staring at him, and he’s not even trying to hide it. Hesitantly, Karl meets his gaze.

“Are you sure we haven’t met before?” James asks contemplatively, the hint of a frown on his face.

“I think I would remember if I had,” Karl says, and hopes the slight waver in his voice isn’t audible. “We’re strangers, really.”

James cocks his head. “You’re not a stranger if you’re constantly on my mind.”

Karl’s cheeks burn. He betrays himself by glancing at James’ mouth, just the fraction of a second, but when he looks up again, James hasn’t missed the moment. No, he’s definitely noticed, by the smirk on his face.

“You don’t even know me,” Karl whispers, and there’s more hurt in his voice than there should be. He can’t help it, not when Sapnap— _James_ —is right here, so close, everything he wants and more, but it’s only a version of his perfect reality, a shade duller.

“Give it some time,” James hums, eyes twinkling in the string lights overhead.

Karl drops his head and lets it rest against James’ shoulder for a moment, feeling giddy and a little foolish and so hopelessly in _love_.

The music swells, the tempo rises. There’s no more room for talking, but James’ eyes trail his every movement in silence. Karl burns underneath his stare.

Minutes pass and the songs bleed together. Karl is pulled along the floor, he gets twirled around until he’s dizzy and he’s dipped until he swears he’s going to fall over, there’s people around him that smile at them as they brush past and people that frown a little, but they all fade into nothingness because James’ hands are all over him, fingerprints burning where they touch his skin, holding his waist like it’s the only thing worth holding and Karl smiles until his cheeks hurt.

He loses track of time, but at one point they’re both tired and overheated and it’s a mutual, unspoken agreement to stop the dancing for a moment.

“You want to go get some food?” James asks once they’ve safely maneuvered their way from the dance floor.

“Sure,” Karl nods, shrugging. “I could use some water, too, anyway.”

James intertwines their fingers casually and tugs Karl along. To his surprise, he doesn’t take them to the dining room, where Karl had seen endless tables with food earlier when Billiam showed him around, but instead pulls him into the kitchen, deserted at this hour.

“Here,” James says, reaching for a cup and filling it with water before handing it over.

“Thank you.” Karl smiles, taking a few sips before pressing the cool glass against his flushed cheeks. He walks around the kitchen, looking at the cabinets and the rows of expensive china.

He turns back on his feet. “I didn’t know—”

James crowds him up against the counter, and Karl swallows the rest of his sentence. His heart is beating tattoos inside his ribcage, pounding so hard that it’s a miracle no one else can hear. Gently, James pries the glass from his fingers and sets it down on the marble counter. Then his hands slowly come up to straighten Karl’s collar, and Karl’s breathing grows irregular with how close they are. He can feel James’ breath on his face, noses nearly brushing together.

James looks at him, questioning. Karl barely manages to nod, but then James reels him in by the collar of his hoodie and kisses him.

It’s soft, exploratory, and so incredibly gentle. Karl is glad James holds onto him, because his knees go weak and he’s pretty sure he would’ve fallen over if he wasn’t.

They pull back, way too fast for Karl’s liking, but James is smiling, softly tugging on the fabric of Karl’s mask. “Yeah?” He asks, breathless, and Karl can’t help but smile back.

“Yeah,” he breathes, and he doesn’t tense when James pulls of his mask. Karl merely lifts his hands to James’ face and gently slides the mask off his face.

His heart tightens in his chest—James looks so much like Sapnap. Karl’s fingers brush featherlight over his cheek, past his jaw, trying to take in every detail he can.

James smiles at the touch, and then kisses him again, nipping on his lower lip and smiling into it as Karl parts his lips for him.

He wants to be closer to him, needs it like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. He tangles his fingers in James’ hair and kisses him with newfound fervor.

He wants this feeling to last forever—but Karl knows better than that.

They break apart once they’re both out of breath, soft pants filling the empty space between them. Their foreheads lean together and James lets out a low chuckle that rumbles through Karl’s chest.

“We should probably get back to the party,” Karl says, biting on his lower lip. “I promised Sir Billiam a description of what, exactly, my job consists of.”

“I don’t want to,” James pouts.

Karl laughs. “I don’t want to either, trust me.”

But James still helps him straighten, ties the mask behind his head again with such gentleness that it physically pains Karl, and Karl does the same for him, fixing his hair and handing him back the mask.

No one notices as they sneak into the ball room together and they’re just standing at the bar to get wine when Sir Billiam walks up to them. “Karl, there you are! I’ve been looking for you.”

“Sir Billiam, oh—” Karl starts, turning on his heel. James stands next to him, silently intertwining their fingers behind Karl’s back, and his cheeks redden slightly. “Well, I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“I suppose you are,” Billiam smiles, folding his arms. “I’ve been meaning to ask—”

The lights flicker off, shrouding the entire room in complete darkness. Karl’s heart drops into his stomach.

And then someone screams.

Panic erupts in the ballroom, people scrambling for the doors blindly. Karl’s fingers try to tighten around James’, but in the frenzy his hand slips. “James!” Karl calls out, but it’s inaudible over the chaos.

“Karl!” he hears, “Just run!”

He lets himself get dragged along by the current, through the doorpost and into the foyer. The hallway, where was the hallway? To his right, if he remembers correctly—Karl stumbles towards the wall in absolute darkness and reaches out his hands.

He’s not sure how much time passes, but when the lights flicker back on, it’s blinding. With his heart in his throat, Karl meanders back to the ballroom.

“Karl!”

Something in his chest unwinds when he hears James’ voice. “James,” he breathes, letting James grip his shoulders and jostle him a little.

“Good god, I thought I lost you.”

“What happened?” Karl asks, brows knitting together as he glances to where a handful people are standing in a circle.

“Uh—I—we don’t know. Someone… someone got killed.”

Karl’s eyes widen. “Just now?” James nods, and Karl rubs a hand along his jaw. “I need to see.”

James stops him with a hand on his chest. “It’s—it’s pretty horrific, Karl. I’m not sure if you want to.”

Even though he appreciates the concern, he gives James a gentle look. “I need to see.”

James lifts his hands in defense and lets him past, and… he was right. It’s horrific. Karl finally understands why he’s here, and he shakes his head at the body, regretting the fact that he wasn’t able to prevent it from happening.

“Where are the other guests?” Karl asks, fighting the nausea that forces its way up his throat.

Sir Billiam looks sickly pale, the lighting making him appear almost green. “Most of them fled, but—but someone locked the doors from the outside before everyone could make it out.”

“You mean we’re stuck in here?” Karl sucks in a breath, glancing at the handful of people around him. At least the majority managed to escape. “Do you have any clue who could even want to do something like this?”

Sir Billiam shakes his head, the glaze in his eyes aghast. “No. No. I don’t understand.”

“Alright, well, there has to be a reasonable explanation for this, so—”

The lights go out again.

James, who’d come up to stand behind Karl, grabs Karl’s arm immediately and laces together their fingers. “Shit—”

“We have to hide,” Karl urges to everyone who can hear him, and then he lets James pull him along.

When the lights go on again, there’s a second body. Karl faintly realizes that, to whoever is doing this, it’s just a game. The thought makes him sick to his stomach.

He knows he has to stop this—but he doesn’t know how.

They’re in the middle of examining the second body when the lights are killed again. Darkness takes over the room.

Karl drags himself up the stairs, lungs burning, forcing himself to clear his mind as he clings onto James’ hand like his life depends on it.

“Where do we go?” he whispers feverishly, one hand against the wall to support himself. Slow, unhurried footsteps echo through the hallway, coming closer their way.

“Shit—” James curses under his breath, “we have to find a place where we’ll be safe until it’s all over—”

“No time for that now, we have to run,” Karl pushes, and they break into a sprint, feet thumping along the hardwood floor. “There’s a door, here!”

But James’ hand slips from Karl’s in their hurry, and Karl’s stomach goes taut with dread. “Go! I’ll go into the next room,” James assures him.

Karl wants to try and change his mind, but he’s already running on. Karl closes the door and rests his back against it, sucking in a breath and slapping a palm over his mouth when heavy footsteps trudge past.

When the lights flicker back to life, the inevitability of the situation has already sunken into the pit of Karl’s stomach. He stumbles into the hallway, not letting his eyes adjust to the light as he looks around.

There’s a body at the end of the corridor.

Karl trips over his own legs as he sprints towards it. His knees hit the ground with a painful thud as he collapses on the floor.

“Karl,” James croaks out, smiling despite the gaping wound at his side.

“No, no—” Karl breathes, panic steadily building in his throat. “I can stop this, I can save you, please, no—”

“It’s okay,” James says, lifting his hand to Karl’s face. There’s blood on his fingers that he accidentally smears on Karl’s cheek, but he barely feels it over the crushing in his chest. “Karl,” he says slowly, like he’s tasting the word, smiling wearily. He tugs off the mask. “My Karl.”

“I can fix this, wait,” Karl gets out, voice shaking. There’s burning behind his eyes that he desperately tries to blink away. “If you sit up, I can—we can—”

“Karl,” James murmurs, dragging out the syllable. “It’s okay, really. Tonight was a gift.”

“Stop,” Karl bites out, hot tears blurring his vision. “Don’t say that.”

James brushes the hair from his eyes with a shaky hand. “It was, wasn’t it?” He takes in Karl’s face, careful, slow, like he has all the time in the world. “Maybe I’ll see you in another life, if this one wasn’t meant to be.”

Karl’s heart stops in his chest. The tears slips down his cheeks and drip into dark stains on James’ shirt. “Please, don’t—”

“Maybe when the time is right,” James gets out, his breathing getting labored, “you will find me again.”

Karl is shaking so badly that he can’t speak. A million words clog up in his throat and make it hard to breathe. He can’t do this—he can’t lose James, he can’t lose him because it’s like losing Sapnap and he just _can’t do this—_

“Karl,” James says again, a whisper only for him to hear, a smile only for him to see. Karl cradles his hand to his cheek until it goes limp.

Something fractures in his chest.

Karl sits in a puddle of warm blood that seeps into his jeans, rocking back and forth, unable to let go of the hand in his.

When the lights go out again, he can’t get himself to care.

⁂

Karl awakes with a loud gasp, hands immediately flying up to his stomach as he shoots to his feet. His mouth is dry, head pounding as he looks around.

He is in his library, surrounded by the smell of parchment and fresh ink. He is back where he belongs.

There’s a dull ache in his arms, but it doesn’t compare to the stinging in his chest. Slowly, he glances down, and he lets out a shuddering breath when he sees that his stomach is still whole. His heart might be fractured, but at least his body is still whole.

The memories are a little fuzzy when he opens a book and dips a quill in ink, but then it all starts flooding back with stark clarity. And when he remembers James—breathtaking, heart-wrenching James—Karl suddenly finds himself unable to write.

The cavity in his chest fills and fills until he can’t breathe, until just thinking about losing him makes it impossible to speak, and he pushes through the shelves until he’s in his room, then out through the door until he’s in the outside air.

His legs can’t carry him fast enough as he sprints through the ruins of L’Manberg, towards the portal.

He’s barely set one foot into Kinoko Kingdom when he hears Sapnap’s voice.

“Karl?”

His heart plummets, eyes widening as he spins on his heel to look at him. Sapnap looks exactly like how he saw him last time—netherite armor on, black hair ruffled, eyes sparkling. No puddles of blood, no gaping wounds, no whispered final goodbyes.

“Dude, where have you _been?_ I missed you, man, it’s been a week—”

Karl lets out a relieved breath, not giving anyone an explanation as he staggers forward and crashes in Sapnap’s arms. 

Sapnap is visibly confused, but doesn’t hesitate for a second as he wraps his arms around Karl’s shoulders. “Hey, are you okay?”

Karl presses his face into the crook of Sapnap’s neck, able to muffle his sob, unable to hide the way his body shakes.

“I’m here now,” Sapnap mumbles, pulling him closer. “I’m here now, you’re okay.”

They stand there for minutes, in the middle of the field, a half-finished mushroom house behind them, the sun slowly sinking towards the horizon, birds singing and insects buzzing as they fly past. Karl gradually feels himself come back, the fragments of his soul slowly piecing together to drag him back to the current timeline, to the present, to _Sapnap._

Karl suddenly pulls back, clutching at the collar of Sapnap’s shirt that’s still visible over his armor. He takes in the details of his face—the laugh lines around his mouth, the skin around his eyes that crinkles when he smiles, the stubble on his jaw that he always forgets to shave—and Karl reminds himself that he’s here, this is real, Sapnap is right here and he’s _alive_.

His eyes are wide. “Promise me,” he croaks out, a certain urgency behind his tone that makes Sapnap’s brows knit together with worry, “promise me you won’t leave me.”

“What?” Sapnap asks, and just the sound of his voice makes Karl want to cry.

“Promise me that if anything happens, you’ll find me,” Karl pushes on, a sob fighting its way up his throat. He swallows it down. “No matter what.”

“Karl, are you okay?”

He sucks in a shuddering breath, fingers tightening into fists as he buries them in the fabric of Sapnap’s shirt. “Promise me, please—”

“I promise! I promise, Karl,” Sapnap shushes him, pulling him back into his embrace and keeping him close to his chest. “I’ll always find you. You’ll always have me. I promise.”

His lungs are burning and his eyes are stinging and his heart aches, it aches more than he’s ever experienced, it aches so bad that the sensation wraps around his lungs and makes it hard to breathe, but…

Maybe James was right. Maybe the time was finally right—and Karl found him again.

**Author's Note:**

> what did y'all think? leave a comment teehee
> 
> or come talk to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/sundaycore) / [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sundaycore) <33


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